


Within the Truth That You Know

by tryslora



Series: All Our Yesterdays [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Divorce, M/M, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants to know how the hospital knew to call his ex-husband when their daughter was hurt. It’s impossible that Nikki would have had Jackson’s number in her phone, isn’t it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within the Truth That You Know

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for prompt #25 - Impossible at fullmoon_ficlet. As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

“Michelle.” Stiles calls out quietly, waiting for the nurse to turn around before he tries a smile. He doesn’t really want to leave Jackson alone with Nikki, but he’s had to do it a few times already to take care of necessary things, so he tries to accept it this time as well. “I was wondering what the protocol was with notifying family, and how my ex-husband ended up here.” He’s known Michelle a long time—she’s worked here almost as long as he’s been hanging around here because of Melissa McCall—so he trusts her to answer.

Michelle casts a sympathetic look at him, her brown eyes soft as she shakes her head. “I wasn’t here when they brought your daughter in, but sometimes those calls are made before they even get here. If the phone has an ICE entry, or anything identifying the parent, the police may call. We know Nikki here, so of course we called you, but more than likely they got his number from her phone.”

Stiles shakes his head. “That’s impossible. We haven’t spoken to Jackson in a decade, not since he left.”

Michelle spreads her hands. “I can’t think of any other way they’d think to call him. You know none of us here would do it. I don’t think any of us even have a way to get in touch with him, unless Melissa does. Maybe her son or her daughter-in-law? They seemed like they were still friendly.”

“Not possible.” Stiles looks back at the room, where Jackson sits by Nikki’s side again, her hand in his, the black marks on his arms hidden from view. “They wouldn’t do that.”

Because Scott wouldn’t do it to _him_. He _knows_ how bad things got, how wrong everything was. He has to know how wrong things still _are_ , since _Amanda_ is coming in and Scott and Allison have gone to the airport to get her.  “Thanks,” he says, even though he still doesn’t know the truth. “I need to get back to Nikki.”

He slides the glass door of her room open, scowling when Jackson looks up. “Amanda ought to be here soon,” Stiles says dryly.

“Scott and Allison are bringing her here, yes,” Jackson replies, tone mild. “I don’t want to leave for longer than I have to, and I’ve got the rental parked here so she can take that back to the hotel and get out and explore. She’s been looking forward to seeing where I grew up.”

So it isn’t just about Nikki. It’s about bonding with _her_ , and about bringing her back home, back to where everything is from Jackson’s old life. It’s about inserting her into the life Stiles has now with Nikki. “You contacted Nikki,” Stiles accuses him. “You got in touch with her.”

“I didn’t.” Jackson slips his hand of Nikki’s and stands, pushing through the door and taking Stiles with him. “Not in front of Nikki,” he reminds him, hands falling away from Stiles’s shoulders as soon as they are in the hall. “She contacted me, about a year ago. She said she had Caleb get my address from Allison’s email, and we started talking through email, and on the phone a few months ago. But she initiated it, not me.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I knew you’d overreact.”

“Overreact.” Stiles throws his hands wide. “Overreact? Jackson, you were a complete asshole and you walked out on us. Given the choice between your family and your new job and your _girlfriend_ , you _walked out_. You left us. You don’t _deserve_ a chance, and I am _not_ going to let you hurt her.”

“Do you think I’d be here if I was planning on hurting her?” Jackson rolls his eyes. “Grow up, Stiles. Grow up and _listen_ for once. Stop trying to figure it all out yourself, stop jumping to conclusions, and _listen._ ”

Stiles laughs, because that’s rich. The idea that Jackson is suddenly going to start explaining things after all the secrecy. He knows how Jackson is, he remembers it well. Jackson hides, and Jackson lies, and Jackson never says everything… he says just enough to skate by and make himself look good.

So, no.

Stiles crosses his arms, looking through the glass at Nikki rather than at Jackson. “When you have something real to say, maybe I will,” he mutters.

“Jackson!”

He doesn’t recognize the female voice that calls out, but Stiles does recognize the distinct sound of childish shoes racing along the linoleum. As they both turn, a small girl barrels into Jackson, wrapping her arms around his legs and holding on tight.

“Is she okay?” the little girl asks. “Mommy said she’s sleeping. Is she going to wake up? Can I see her? I want to meet her! I like Nikki. Can I talk to her for real now?”

Stiles opens his mouth, no sound coming out before he snaps it closed again. He looks at the girl, really _looks_ at her, and he can’t miss the resemblance. The shape of her face, the clear cut cheek bones and jawline. The eyes, which _scream_ Jackson, and the way he lifts her (it reminds him of when Nikki was that age, just before Jackson left). Stiles has to blink back tears, and he rubs the back of his hand against his eyes.

“I need to step out,” Stiles says quietly. “Scott, come get me if anything changes.” He doesn’t even see Scott, doesn’t see anything other than the little girl clinging to Jackson, but he knows Scott and Allison and _Amanda_ must be there, and he just can’t deal with it right now. He takes a slow shuddering breath before he walks away.

“It’s not what you think,” Jackson says, and Stiles flips him off without looking because it’s the most polite thing he can think to do. If he opens his mouth, things he will regret saying are going to come out.

“You didn’t tell him, did you.” It’s not a question the way the woman says it, and Stiles knows that has to be her, the voice carrying down the hall. He doesn’t turn around to look, doesn’t hear Jackson’s low response. The door to the men’s room is nearby and Stiles pushes inside, letting it close behind him to lock out the world.

It doesn’t matter what Jackson hasn’t said. Stiles can’t think of a thing that could possibly make this better.


End file.
